


Darling, darling, you should've been there

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Period-Typical Homophobia, Reference to smut that doesn't actually happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Billy offers to help Steve decorate his house for the upcoming holiday. Things go more than a little awry.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Another Lonely Christmas' by Prince.

_Billy;_

“Damn, Harrington, your parents go all out, huh?” Says Billy.

“What?” Billy repeats himself. “Oh. When they can be bothered to be here, yeah.” Steve says as he hands Billy a fifth box of Christmas decorations down from the attic.

Billy doesn’t drop the box, having learned his lesson after Steve reamed him for tossing the first one onto the carpet.

“Any more up there?”

“I think so, hang on.” Steve grunts as he reaches for something out of arms length, hips wiggling as he tries and fails to work it out of its spot.

“Sure you don’t need my help?” Billy asks, shamelessly ogling Steve’s ass.

Steve huffs a laugh. “There isn’t a part of your body that isn’t shorter than mine. What’re you gonna do, swat at the surrounding air?” Billy jostles the ladder in retaliation. Steve kicks playfully, clips Billy’s shoulder. “This isn’t working, I’m just gonna go all the way up.”

“You do that.”

Billy crouches down to inspect the boxes as Steve disappears into the loft. They’re old, well used, dusty, too.

“Why do none of these have labels?”

“Uh, we always use all the boxes, so I guess there’s no need to differentiate between them.” Steve calls from above.

Billy takes the box cutter out of his pocket and gets to work on opening the boxes.

The first is full of lights-a _lot_ of lights. The second is a combination of tinsel, stockings and wreaths. The third is loaded with candles and a wide variety of candle holders. The fourth is an assortment of rather dated ornaments, the fifth is…Billy isn’t sure what the fifth is.

“Hey, Steve?”

Several tubes of wrapping paper drop from the hole in the ceiling, followed by Steve poking his head through. “Yeah?”

“What’s all this?”

“What’s all wh-oh. Go ahead and tape that one back up.”

Billy doesn’t tape it back up. “Why? There’s great stuff in here.” Billy pulls out old drawings, handmade holiday cards, photo albums.

“Billy,” Steve says, voice stern. “put them back.”

Billy frowns at Steve. “What, are you embarrassed?”

“No, I just don’t want-“

“Don’t want what? Don’t want me to see shit you made when you were a kid?” Steve doesn’t answer, face growing red from being upside down so long. “Are you going to answer, or just gawk at me looking like a tomato?”

Steve closes his eyes, sighs heavily. “Billy, it doesn’t matter, just drop it.”

Billy scoffs. “Doesn’t matter? I’m your _boyfriend_ , Steve. Nancy told me you showed her your baby pictures. When I asked to see them you said no,” Billy holds up a stick figure drawing of what he deduces to be Steve and his parents, “now you won’t let me look at these?”

Steve disappears from sight momentarily before climbing down the ladder and facing Billy. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this! It’s just-just stuff I made when I was a little.”

“Did _Nancy_ get to look at them when she helped you decorate last year?” Steve’s fist clench and unclench at his sides. He stares at the ceiling like the right answer will appear if he looks hard enough. “ _Fuck you_ , Harrington.” Billy resists the urge to tear the drawing in half, instead taking the care to gently put it back where he found it before turning for the stairs.

“Billy-“ Steve reaches for him, hand fisting in the back of his sweater. "Billy, _wait_ -“

He rounds on Steve, eyes burning. “Just stuff, huh? This is just stuff to you?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say! This is ridiculous.”

“It might be _just stuff_ to you, Steve. But sharing shit like that actually means something to me. I’m all in on this-know how I let you know that? You’re the first person I come to after Neil smacks me around. You’re the one I call in the middle of the night when I dream about my mom dying.”

“Billy, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise it meant so much to you. I’ll show you whatever you want to see.”

“No! It won’t fucking mean anything now! I don’t want pity intimacy.” Billy rubs his eyes angrily, catching the tears threatening to spill over before they can fall. “You wanted to show that cheating bitch Nancy, but you don’t want to show me, even though I fucking risk my life everyday to be with you. Neil would kill me if he found out why I’m always here, Steve. That’s not an exaggeration. He would fucking kill me. But I come back anyway.”

Steve clenches his jaw, eyes shining. “I’m all in, Billy. You know I am.”

“Well, you don’t fuckin’ act like it.” Billy takes the stairs two at a time.

Steve calls after him. “Billy-Billy!”

Billy yanks the front door open so hard it slams into the wall, knocking a small handle sized hole in the dry wall. “I’ll pay for that to be fixed,” he says before storming to his car. Steve follows him.

“Billy, _please_ -“

Billy turns when they reach his car, shoves Steve away by the chest. “ _Don’t_ follow me.”

“Where are you going? Billy-“

Billy slams the door behind him. “Have a nice life, Harrington.”

“What-? No-“ The Camaro roars to life, angry as Billy, tires shrieking against the asphalt as he speeds away. Billy looks back once, sees Steve on his knees in the middle of Carlton Road.

…

_Steve;_

The Camaro speeds away. Steve doesn’t know how long he sits there, staring at the spot where Billy left him.The asphalt is cold, the knees of Steve’s jeans are soaked through with brown sleet.

He snaps out of his reverie when a car somewhere behind him honks. Steve scrambles to his feet and hurries back inside, slams the door behind him.

It all happened so fast-Steve feels like he has whiplash. One moment they’re flirting, talking, the next Billy’s dumped him because he didn’t wanna look at fucking photo albums or drawings, like that somehow means Steve doesn’t love Billy, doesn’t understand the risk he takes to be with Steve.

Steve doesn’t know what he feels, doesn’t wanna feel anything. He goes to the kitchen, tries to break the stupid lock his dad put on the liquor cabinet with a hammer. When it doesn’t work, he hunts down the crowbar and pries the handles off the doors. Sawdust and screws and tears rain on the countertop.

He finds the cabinet empty. “God damn it!” Steve throws the crowbar across the room, punches the cabinet, sinks to his knees for the second time that day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is angsty as fuck. Buckle up, kids.

_Billy;_

Two hours, two beers and too many cigarettes later, Billy’s back.

It’s dark now; there are lights on in every house except Steve’s. Billy knows he’s home, his car is still parked right where it was when Billy left.

 _Shouldn’t have left_ , Billy thinks. _Shouldn’t have made his shit about my shit. Fucking hothead Hargrove._

Billy stares at the big red doors, thinks about the wreaths Steve handed him that should’ve been hung on them by now.

He sighs, gets out of the car, grabs his bag from the passenger seat. He’s come prepared, booze and lube and condoms and a first aid kit. Whenever things get too heavy they work it out with drugs or their fists or their cocks. Billy’s anticipating all three.

 _We’ll work it out. It has to work out._ He raps his knuckles on the door three times, rapid fire, how he always knocks.

Steve doesn’t answer. Billy knocks again. And again. Just as he’s turning to leave, the door opens. Steve’s face is puffy from crying, red patches all over his face, sweatshirt still damp in some spots.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just looks at him. Billy doesn’t know what to say, so he says, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve nods once, doesn’t move or say anything else.

“Can…Can I come in?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just turns around and walks. Billy follows him into the living room. Steve bypasses the couch, just sits down on the rug in front of the fire. There’s a full ashtray on the hearth, flanked by a near empty carton of Marlboro Reds and a box of matches.

“I thought you stopped smoking.”

Steve lights a cigarette. “I did.” His voice is monotone, robotic.

Billy sits opposite him. “Steve, baby, look at me."

“Don’t call me that; not right now.”

“Okay.” Billy says. He unzips the bag, pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels, followed by a bottle of coke. “You want a drink?” Steve nods. Billy stands to get glasses. Steve just screws off the cap of the Jack and drinks straight from the bottle.

“Okay, no glasses tonight.”

They sit in silence for a long while, passing the bottle back and forth. Billy caps it the next time Steve passes it back. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, you feel like talking now? Could’a done with that a couple hours ago, Bill.”

Billy sighs. “I know, Steve. I’m sorry.”

Steve looks at him. “What for?”

“For what I said about my dad. That wasn’t fair. I know you know what it means for me to be here, I shouldn’t have thrown that in your face. My shit isn’t your shit.”

“Is that it?”

“And…for what I said about Nancy.”

“What, that she’s a cheating bitch, or that I shared more with her than I do with you?”

“The second part.”

“This isn’t about Nancy.”

“It’s a little bit about Nancy.”

“You’re gonna have to elaborate on that.”

Billy takes one of Steve’s cigarettes, lights it with his Metallica Zippo. “She didn’t deserve you, she didn’t deserve to know you. Nancy has her perfect house and her perfect family and her perfect life, she had _you_ , and she pissed it away. It’s not right that someone like that gets to know more about you than I do.”

“She doesn’t. Nancy hardly knows me, not really.” Steve wraps his arms around his legs, rests his chin on his knees, stares into the fire. “I was never myself with Nancy, I was who she wanted me to be. That made me better in a lot of ways, I was a douchebag before her, but I still wasn’t-I wasn’t myself. She wouldn’t have liked the real me. That’s why she cheated, I couldn’t be vulnerable with her. Sure, she saw pictures of me as a kid and held things I made, but she doesn’t know what those times were really like for me. She saw what she wanted to see, a kid smiling into the camera and shitty art. She doesn’t know what any of it really meant.”

Billy feels latent dread sweep through him. “Why didn’t you want to show me, Steve?”

Steve takes a shaky breath, stubs his dead Marlboro out in the ashtray. “Because…because my childhood wasn’t what you think it was.”

Steve reaches for the last stick in the packet. Billy lights it for him. “My dad is strict-not as bad as yours, obviously, but he was always strict, even when I was real little. He wouldn’t play with me, barely paid me any attention. Mom wasn’t much better. Dad always chasing skirt drove her fucking crazy, she had to start taking these pills ‘cus she was so anxious.” 

Steve pauses for a minute to just breathe. Billy watches a number of emotions he doesn’t have a name for cross Steve’s face.

“Those photos, those drawings, they’re reminders of the sad little kid whose parents loved hating each other more than they loved him. I look at them, and I remember my dad throwing away father’s day cards, I remember my mom being so fucking out of it she took one of my drawings in hand and stared at it for hours without moving.” Steve looks at Billy, tears in his eyes, tracking down his cheeks. Billy feels his own eyes fill and spill over. “I wanted them to notice me, Billy. I wanted them to notice me so bad. Asking for them to love me stopped working, so I tried to make them hate me instead. They hated each other but they were always together. I was so lonely, I thought being screamed at must be better, cause then at least they’d be fucking talking to me, you know? So I started acting up in school. I hit other kids, broke shit, got suspended. Then when I was at home I’d break more shit. I got what I wanted, but it wasn’t better. It was just worse.

“Things got so bad I had to go live with my grandma for a couple years. Those were good. She was always happy to see me when I got home from school. Even when the principal called and she had to come pick me up ‘cause I was suspended again, she was still happy to see me. She walked me to the bus stop till I was 13. Other kids made fun of me, but I wasn’t embarrassed, I was just happy she cared that much. She stuck my shitty drawings and shittier report cards on the refrigerator, she framed pictures of me, she kept a pencil holder I made her at school on the table till she died. Everyday when I got home she'd ask me how my day was. The answer was always the same but she _always_ asked, Billy. She always asked.”

Billy wipes his eyes. “How old were you, when she died?”

"I was 15.”

‘What’d she die of?

“Breast cancer.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Steve reaches for the Jack, Billy passes it to him wordlessly.

“When she died, I had to move back in with my parents. By then I was old enough to be left home alone, and I was always alone. Dad was always away on business trips, mom followed him like a fuckin’ shadow, ‘cause he’s got pussy in every port. I was so angry, after she died. Started fucking around with Tommy H. and Carol and Nicole. Started smoking and drinking and partying and fucking anything that looked at me twice.”

Billy reaches for Steve’s free hand, squeezes, feels the best he’s felt since he left when Steve squeezes back.

“Nancy made me want to be better, she was the first person who made me want to be better since my Grandma. But Nancy didn’t wanna know the real me like Grandma did, like you do.” Steve’s voice breaks as he talks. “You gotta know that, Billy. Nobody alive knows me like you do. _Nobody_.”

Billy nods frantically, mouth trembling. “I do baby, I do. I’m so sorry.”

They reach for each other simultaneously. Billy crawls onto Steve’s laps, straddles his legs and cradles his head in both hands, looks deep into his eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to tell me this way. Wasn’t fair to you.”

Steve laughs without humour. “You can say that again.” Billy does. Steve’s face contorts into a grimace. “You left me, Billy. You _left_ me alone. I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. It was just like- _just like_ -“ His shoulders start to shake. Billy feels something small and fragile break inside him. Steve buries his face in Billy’s shoulder, fists his jacket as he sobs into the denim.

Billy swallows around the lump in his throat, wills the tears out of his voice. “M’ here now, baby. Shouldn’t have left. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? Never gonna leave you like that ever again.” He cradles the back of Steve’s head with his right hand, rubs concentric circles into Steve’s back with his left.

The fire is more embers than flames when Steve’s sobs morph into hiccups. Billy holds and rocks him through it, whispering oaths and promises into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This…this got away from me. It was supposed to be pure fluff, but once the dialogue started rolling I just could not stop typing and knew I had to let this go where it was taking me. Hope this doesn’t put a huge damper on anyone’s holiday spirit, but these boys are Hurting all year round, and I wanted to include that.
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading.
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://bry0psidawrites.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bryopsida)

**Author's Note:**

> This…this got away from me. It was supposed to be pure fluff, but once the dialogue started rolling I just could not stop typing and knew I had to let this go where it was taking me. Hope this doesn’t put a huge damper on anyone’s holiday spirit, but these boys are Hurting all year round, and I wanted to include that.


End file.
